Obligations de l'empathie
by Savvy Sammy-13
Summary: Who is Caralynn Lass? Everyone knows that Will Graham feels empathy, but is Dr. Hannibal Lecter also capable of feeling it? What will happen when the doctor is forced to associate with a new, interesting, but also painfully familiar young woman? Story takes place right before Gideon is questioned and the investigation for the Chesapeake Ripper is launched once again.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Thanks so much for checking this out. Hannibal has taken over my brain. First of all I should probably apologize to the people who have read my other stories. I know that I'm a horrible person because I have left so many half done and haven't even been on in forever. I'm out for summer now and have plans to fix all of that and redo some things. Thanks again for checking this out though. Please review so I will have an idea if this is worth continuing._

Will Graham leaned forward in his chair, allowing his elbows to rest on his knees as he dropped his face to his palms. He rubbed his eyes tiredly before pausing a short while, remaining in the same position with his face and eyes covered by his hands. Hannibal Lecter crossed one of his legs over the other. His hands were interlocked in his lap. Hannibal was completely comfortable, focused on Will's nervous fidgets and his avoidance at maintaining eye contact. Despite the time being only a little after noon, the thick red and white curtains were pulled over the windows, blocking all sunlight and leaving the small lamps spread throughout the room to illuminate the area around them. The warmth emitted by the lamps gave the room a comfortable feeling despite the darkness.

"I guess I feel bad because I didn't know that Jack's wife was dyin- well I didn't know that she had cancer," Will's muffled words traveled through his hands, and he removed them from his face to glance up.

Hannibal met his eyes for only a moment before Will looked away.

"And it was something that he was not aware of either at the time. You cannot blame yourself for that," Hannibal murmured.

Will swallowed hard and clenched his jaws tightly. He straightened his back and began to fumble in his jean pockets.

"You said that you stood up to Jack Crawford. You first told me that you were rude to him because he was, in turn, rude to you. He was putting too much stress on you to catch the angel-maker," Hannibal began, studying Will as he took a short pause. "But now you feel badly because his wife is dying of cancer. Is that the only reason you feel bad? Are you going to keep allowing him to put the stress on you? Now that angel-maker is no longer out there, you know there will be more."

"I know," Will said through his teeth. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and popped a few pills into his mouth. With a quick tilt of his head, he swallowed the pills without the assistance of water.

"Believe me I know. I look like Jack's little cracked tea cup," Will gritted through his teeth once again.

Hannibal tilted his head. Will's loyalty amused him greatly. Will's mind seemed as though it could not allow Will to give up on a case, even if everyone else had already put it aside. It never seemed to leave Will's mind. Hannibal knew that Will would not quit. He could not, not as long as there were still gruesome cases to solve and lives to save.

"I know that you are not Jack Crawford's cracked tea cup, but Jack Crawford now has much more than cases to handle. Wouldn't you agree that he will now put more stress on you most likely?"

At Hannibal's words, Will leaned back in his chair and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. He sighed loudly.

"I know that it is your empathy that makes others view you as that tea cup, Will…It is your empathy disorder. Most people do not even understand the concept of empathy," Hannibal paused, making sure that Will was listening and had not traveled away in his own mind. Will glanced up during the pause, assuring Hannibal that he was indeed listening.

"Empathy is a complex imaginative process and the definition, although it seems simple, is not that clear. It is defined as a person who stimulates another person's psychological states while maintaining a clear self to other differentiation. That is how it is in most people anyway. You were gifted with a much more intense and empathically abled mind."

Will nodded, his eyes adrift around the room, not stopping on one object for long before moving on to another.

Hannibal fell silent, allowing Will the chance to become lost in his thoughts like he always did. Hannibal could imagine the words soaking into Will's mind. Now that Will seemed to actually listen and allow the words to do so, Hannibal felt him open up just a little. Was it trust that Hannibal felt from Will? It had to be. Hannibal saw no other reason that Will would keep coming back now that he had passed his psychological evaluation. It was interesting for Hannibal to see Will return and speak his mind with ease on occasions.

"What is it like…having just enough empathy to be _normal_? You have empathy for others?" Will questioned unsurely.

"Of course," Hannibal answered quickly, taken back by Will's sudden upper hand in the conversation. He raised his hands and steepled his fingers in front of him. "Empathy is an important ideal of studying psychology. Psychiatrists must learn empathy if they do not yet possess it."

Will once again nodded into space. His lips curled into a slight grimace.

"Are you still seeing him, Will?" Hannibal asked, using the break in conversation to turn the questioning back away from himself.

"No…No of course not. I haven't seen Hobbs in a while," Will blurted out almost angrily.

Will's defensiveness seemed to hold an altogether different truth than his words. Hannibal uncrossed his leg and then crossed the other. Subjects had to be brought up with Will delicately or they would not be communicated truthfully. Catching him off guard never proved to be effective.

Hannibal flicked his tongue over his bottom lip, teething it for a short while before he opened his mouth to speak again.

It was then that he heard the noise. It was the sound of the main door of the building shutting. The heavy wooden door was not shut carefully or quietly, and it echoed throughout the rest of the empty building.

Will did not move at the sound. He sat; eyes focused and staring hard past Hannibal to the dark red accent wall of the office. Hannibal remained quiet, straining his ears for any noise. For a brief moment, he almost allowed himself to be caught off guard and feel uncomfortable, making himself believe that he had overlooked an appointment. Instead of pondering over that for long, though, his mind flashed back to his appointment book with the neatly penned in names and times. Hannibal reminded himself that he never booked a patient directly after Will's appointments. After Freddie Lounds, he made sure that there were no other patients in the building during Will's scheduled time. A muffled female voice broke his thoughts. A male voice followed it directly, much louder but still as muffled due to distance and walls. It was then that Will sat up in his chair. He lifted his wrist and frantically looked to his wristwatch, checking the time and nervously reaching back to rub at the back of his neck.

"Did we go over time?" Will jumped to his feet.

"No," Hannibal answered him directly and climbed to his own feet. "I do not have another appointment today-" He paused when the voices became closer and more audible.

It was Jack Crawford's voice. Hannibal breathed in deeply when he realized it. The fresh smell of the outdoors maneuvered itself in with the air that was sent circulating when Jack and his company entered the building.

"Is Jack Crawford looking for you?" Hannibal asked Will. He glanced at Will but his mind was focused on the voices outside the door, trying to hear if the female voice was as familiar as Jack's.

He ruled out immediately that it was not Alana Bloom or anyone else he knew. The female voice had been frantic and bothered.

"Uh," Will fumbled nervously in his pockets, patting his legs before removing his hands and starting toward the thick, oak door. "I must have left my cell phone in the car."

Will reached the door, and Hannibal started towards it, confident that the pair outside were indeed looking for Will. He allowed Will to open the door and exit before he did. Hannibal waited just a moment before he slipped out of the door himself, hands shoved in his pockets.

"What's going on Jack?" Will demanded immediately.

Hannibal stepped into the hall, noticing Will, Jack, and the back of a young woman standing farther away. Her phone was held up to her ear as she talked quietly, if at all, in the direction of the opposite wall. Though she stood in the shadows of the corner, Hannibal could make out her small frame and pale skin. Her dark colored dress met her knees, and she wore a pair of dark flats on her feet. Her hair was dark, but he could not be sure if it was due to the shadows or its natural intensity. It fell in loose but wavy curls nearly down to the small of her back.

"Will, we have a crime scene to visit. And now, thanks to Freddie Lounds, there's an unconfirmed story floating out there that the Chesapeake Ripper is already in custody," Jack Crawford spat angrily.

A thin smear of sweat covered Jack's dark forehead, and his eyes were wide and angry. Hannibal hid the sheer amount of his attention that the mention of the Chesapeake Ripper caught in him.

"Unconfirmed? Wait who is _she_?" Will quickly became flustered and acknowledged the woman with her back still turned.

Jack Crawford was unusually flustered as well. He had not been like that even when acknowledging that his wife had cancer. Hannibal stayed where he was, waiting for an explanation although he knew it was not due to him. He understood the aggravation felt toward Freddie Lounds, and listened with interest on the subject.

"I'd rather not speak of it here," Jack growled.

Hannibal dropped his eyes to the ground, sensing that Jack was not ready to explain their recent issue with him yet. If it had not been his office he would have felt obligated to leave. It would have been the ethical choice, but out of curiosity, he did not move. He reassured himself that he would just visit the tattlecrime website if he did not hear of the article from Will or Jack themselves.

"I'll explain in the car," Jack continued, motioning for Will to follow. "You'll have to excuse me Dr. Lecter for interrupting."

"It is quite alright," Hannibal responded quickly and politely.

Jack did not seem to listen. He turned back to look at the woman who was lowering her phone from her ear.

When the woman turned, she quickly stepped back into the lamplight. It illuminated her features as she dropped her hand to hang by her side, still gripping her cell phone tightly.

Hannibal met her dark eyes for a brief moment before glancing back away from her. Her dark brown and purposely curled hair fell over her shoulders and framed her thin, but attractive face. Hannibal looked back to Jack and Will, but in his mind, he frantically thought, trying to determine where he had seen her before. Had she been a student? There was something familiar about her. Her professional dress gave him the impression that she worked in a field related to his where he could have seen her. Her full lips were pursed tightly and by the look on her face, it was obvious that she was distraught from the phone call or from whatever Jack Crawford was distraught over.

"You cannot trail us, Caralynn," Jack raised his voice slightly.

"I'm not trailing you. I'm trying to help," Caralynn responded immediately, her voice edging louder.

_Caralynn,_ the name echoed in Hannibal's mind. He tried to match it with the face that stood before him, and determine where he had seen her before.

"Caralynn, I understand your concern, believe me I do, but you just can't-"

"Mr. Crawford," Caralynn interrupted Jack, "I think that you of all people owe everyone answers. You owe me answers."

"Excuse me," Hannibal interrupted quickly, but politely. "Is there any particular reason that there is a shouting match occurring here at my practice?"

Silence fell around them for a short second, allowing Hannibal enough time to look back at the mysterious young woman. Her black lace dress had a high neck, and short shoulder sleeves. Professionalism radiated from her physique. She was petite, but looked especially small standing next to Jack Crawford.

"Will Graham," the woman said quickly. She stepped forward suddenly, quickly passing in front of Hannibal and extending her hand for Will to take.

Hannibal inhaled casually before stepping a little out of her way. She stepped in front of him as if he wasn't even there. Her sweet perfume teased his nose. He recognized it as something that many women doused on themselves like marinade in the preparation of a dish, and they did not understand that with that type of perfume, less was more. The smell was sweet and almost youthful. It was delicate and fresh, but not overpowering. There was nothing familiar about the young woman's smell to Hannibal, but he could not shake the familiarity of her person and something about her name.

Caralynn was pursuing her own endeavors, on her own important mission in the midst of Jack Crawford's investigation. Hannibal studied her seemingly delicate hand outstretched in Will's direction.

Hannibal knew the young woman obviously did not know Will as well as he or Jack did. She would not have offered her hand to him if she did. Will did not take her hand, and he did not look into her face. He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes focused on the ground, before he finally spoke.

"Who are you?" Will asked, a strong tint of aggravation toying in his voice.

"I'm Caralynn Lass," The young woman said as she lowered her hand back to hang by her side.

For a brief moment, Hannibal froze entirely. He slowly raised his eyes back up to the young woman's face, maintaining a calm exterior and a look of minimal interest although inside, his mind was whirring.

"_My name is Miriam Lass. I'm with the FBI. I would show you my credentials but I'm actually just a trainee."_

_Miriam Lass stood in front of Hannibal once more. He motioned for her to come in with one hand still tight on the door knob. He remembered the smell of her that had covered him entirely when he wrapped his hands around her pale neck. It was a clean smell, like soap or clean laundry. It was nothing extravagant, but the smell of her had clung to everything and had been nearly impossible to remove. The smell of her had clung to his suit so strongly, but not only to his suit, also to the carpet where he carefully laid her. The smell became grossly intoxicating in the air once she was unconscious. It burned his lungs as if he had inhaled fumes directly. The struggle between them had not been difficult for him to bear so he did not at first understand why the smell of her affected him the way that it had._

"Lass?" Will repeated questioningly.

"Yes. I'm Miriam Lass' sister," The young woman's voice changed with the pronunciation of her sister's name, but she quickly regained emotional control again. She nervously switched her cell phone to her other hand and gripped it tightly.

"And she is not supposed to be here," Jack interrupted her. "Dr. Lecter, I assure you it was not intended to make a scene here. I apologize."

Hannibal did not answer, but Jack did not seem to notice. Caralynn once again demanded his attention.

"I need to know if Gideon is the one," She blurted out. "If he is the ripper then he-"

"The ripper?" Will Graham demanded.

Hannibal reached up and buttoned the button on his suit, gliding his hands down the front of it and smoothing the material before raising his eyes back to the three in front of him. He cleared his throat quietly.

"I'll explain on the way to the Baltimore Sate Hospital," Jack said. "They're expecting us."

Jack turned and Will headed toward the exit as well. Just before reaching the door, Jack turned back around.

"I would suggest that you do not come blundering into our investigation," his face was serious, but his harsh tone had diminished slightly. "Stay. If any new evidence is uncovered, believe me, I will let you know personally."

The young woman did not say anything, but she _did_ stay rooted into place. She watched Jack Crawford and Will Graham exit the hallway.

Hannibal stared hard at the empty doorway. The smell of Miriam Lass was in his memory strong now, blocking out the smell of the outdoors and the smell of Caralynn's perfume that he had been earlier focused on.

Caralynn breathed in deeply and exhaled, her shoulders drooping slightly.

_Miriam Lass, polite and professional, innocently asking about arrow wounds, was too big of a risk. She was curious, too curious, and something in her eyes told Hannibal that she was not buying his story. She stood up from her chair and thanked him anyway. Hannibal knew that the arrow wound had nothing to do with the investigation. It merely pinpointed him as a suspect because he had been there in the ER while the man was a patient._

"I'm so sorry…Doctor," Caralynn Lass looked to the ground briefly, regretfully and embarrassingly before she returned her focus on his face.

"No need to apologize," Hannibal said nonchalantly. He cleared his throat and the tried to shake the memories from his head. "Will and I were finished with his appointment." He slipped his hands into his pants pockets.

Caralynn nodded slightly and looked towards the door that Jack and Will had just exited.

It was all there now, the connection and everything. Hannibal felt stupid for not realizing it earlier. He'd seen her before in newspaper articles and heard her name from interviews about her sister. Her facial features were much like her sister's but unique in their own way. Caralynn's chin held the same cleft indention, just not as nearly noticeable as her sister's had been. They were both petite, but Hannibal had not seen Miriam as dressed as Caralynn was. Miriam's hair had been slicked back into a ponytail and she had worn a pair of slacks and dress shirt. Caralynn's hair was down, a bit darker intensity than her sister's had been and her dress was tight fitting, but it was modest all the same. She looked younger, and Hannibal quickly decided that she had to have been younger than Miriam was. He silently cursed himself for not paying greater attention to the details of Miriam's family and information of her sister. It would have saved him the slight confusion and surprise that he felt now.

"I have to get back to work," Caralynn finally murmured awkwardly.

"I do also," Hannibal countered her statement with his own lie.

Caralynn forced a faint smile and turned, quickening her pace as she exited through the door that Jack and Will had left open. Hannibal remained standing. He reached out and touched the doorframe to his office, gripping it tightly as he stared into the doorway she'd left out of.

He waited until he heard the door that led outside shut before he returned back in his office. He walked slowly, stopping at his desk, eyes roaming over the chair that Miriam Lass had sat in as she questioned him. Her sister wanted to know the truth. In Caralynn, he could see as much stubbornness and commitment as he had seen in Miriam. Hannibal lowered himself into his own chair and straightened a few pencils on his desktop.

_Miriam Lass was sharp. Hannibal was surprised that he was the one actually grasping for straws as she questioned him. She caught him by surprise. Hannibal knew that Jack Crawford, even though he was using Miriam, had no idea just how smart and resourceful a young woman she was. For a moment, Hannibal felt respect for her skill, but it was quickly replaced by the need to remain inconspicuous to all, especially those affiliated with the FBI. It was the fact that she had accurately pinpointed him that made her smell become burnt in his memory. That was why, as she laid on the carpet of his office, legs turned unnaturally and lightly colored lipstick stained lips slightly agape, her clean smell had become overwhelming to his sensitive nose. It had been her excellent expertise that had caused her to meet her early demise._

Who was Caralynn exactly? Hannibal carefully picked up his scalpel and placed it beside his pencils. What did she do? Where did she work and what was the reason for launching a new investigation with Dr. Gideon in the Baltimore State hospital as the possible Chesapeake ripper? Hannibal knew that Will would be back. Will would most likely be ready to talk of the new investigation. Hannibal also had a feeling that it wouldn't be the last he had seen of Caralynn Lass. Hannibal opened his desk drawer and pulled out his iPad, anxious to familiarize himself with as much as he could.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Sorry that it took so long to update. As much as I love Hannibal, I'm finding that it is actually hard to write about. Thanks so much for reading and to those that reviewed. I'm going to be trying to incorporate things from the books into the story, like Hannibal's past and his loss of his sister, Mischa. I just hope that those of you who haven't read the books won't be confused. You can all message me if you would like for criticisms, ideas, or questions. I'd really appreciate feedback. Thanks again._

"Good Evening, Will," Hannibal sidestepped to allow Will inside his office.

Will walked inside, paced past the pair of chairs sitting in the middle of the floor a few moments, and then walked toward the windows at the far wall. Hannibal gently closed the door and turned back to watch him.

"How are you today?" Hannibal asked carefully.

Will turned slightly from the window, allowing Hannibal to view the profile of his face as he rubbed his chin.

"I see the ripper but I don't _feel_ the ripper. This…earlier today…It was plagiarism," Will raised his eyes, meeting Hannibal's as he turned away from the window. "You heard about the crime scene right?" he questioned.

_Smart, _Hannibal acknowledged his own thought at Will's ability to determine that Gideon was not, in fact, the Ripper.

"Yes…I did," Hannibal said as he took a few steps into the room toward the pair of green, cushioned chairs centered in the floor. "It was quite unfortunate for the night nurse on duty. I spoke with Alana earlier. She called and she and I both discussed Dr. Gideon."

Hannibal had not only spoken with Alana Bloom, but he had also scoured the tattlecrime webpage for the article that Freddie Lounds had recently written about the ripper. Alana, trusting and friendly as usual, had sought his advice and told him of the joint interviews that she and Will had done as well. Hannibal felt his lips purse tighter at the thought of Dr. Abel Gideon, sitting proud in his cell at the hospital. He pushed it to the back of his complex mind and tried to listen to Will's thoughts and opinions of the assumed Chesapeake Ripper.

It was one thing to remain in secret, to remain at large, and to remain free, but it was entirely another to have someone else claim his identity. Hannibal contained it well. He contained it to the point that he himself had to retrieve the thoughts from his mind when he wanted them. So, putting away his own thoughts, Hannibal allowed Will to rant on for as long as he needed about the crime scene and his doubt that Gideon was the actual ripper.

Hannibal eventually took his own seat, but Will never did. He continued pacing until he finally finished saying what he needed to say. Hannibal stepped in to the conversation then, using Will to answer his own curious questions.

"Were you and Jack Crawford bothered by the young woman anymore?"

"No," Will answered automatically. " But just her short contact with Jack really threw him off."

"Threw him off?" Hannibal repeated.

"Did you know who her sister is…was?" Will asked, his face twisting into an empathetic grimace.

"Miriam Lass," Hannibal responded. "She is currently missing, thought to have been the last known victim of the ripper. How could I not?"

"Jack already felt guilty and Caralynn Lass only made it worse," Will murmured.

"In her mind she is pushing Jack harder to find who is responsible then?" Hannibal questioned.

"You could say that, but it's not just in her mind. She _is_ pushing him. Jack also told me that she recently went and got her Master's degree in psychology. He doesn't know for sure what she's trying to do, but he thinks she's trying to get involved in the investigation somehow with that."

"So she is fueled by the loss of her sister," Hannibal murmured.

He glanced to the carpet beneath his feet as he recalled words he'd heard from an interview with Caralynn only days after her sister's disappearance.

_Please, if you have Miriam…please return Miriam safely and do her no harm. There is a reward for Miriam's safe return…_

It was a technique to say her name that many times when trying to coerce someone into releasing a captive. Hannibal knew that Caralynn was trying to change the killer's mind. She was trying to make him view her as a person, as Miriam, and not whoever the FBI thought that he viewed her as.

Hannibal re-watched the video and read the information he could find about Caralynn Lass after their unexpected meeting the day before. A good job had been done of keeping her mainly out of the spotlight and public eye, well as much as could be with the disappearance of her sister. He only found one video, and found himself studying her and the desperation in her eyes, trying to be hidden past her fake exterior.

If only the younger Lass sister had known just how close she had gotten to where Miriam had taken her last breath. It was an odd feeling, seeing the younger sister now, years later. Hannibal felt drawn to her in a weird way, and a curiosity that he couldn't seem to shake kept making him think of her. The two sisters seemed so much alike. Both obsessed with their mission at hand.

In the midst of Hannibal's prying into the life of Caralynn Lass, he'd come across a recent divorce announcement. Although physically in the hallway the day before, Caralynn seemed to have it all together, Hannibal had to wonder what she was like mentally. Was she traveling on a downward spiral? Had she completely fried her brain with the grief that came with the loss of her sister or had she used drugs or alcohol to medicate herself. How close had the two of them actually been? It seemed quite obvious that if she was still so transfixed on finding information regarding her sister that she probably had been close with her and she was probably still struggling day to day.

"I can't say that if I had lost a sister I wouldn't be doing the same thing," Will said, breaking Hannibal's thoughts.

Hannibal glanced back up to Will and then back to the floor.

_She'd lost her sister._ Hearing the statement out loud was odd and familiar in ways that affected Hannibal although he fought it. His mind frantically tried to piece together another conversation starter as a defense mechanism. Caught completely off guard by the uncomfortable tension in his body, he cleared his throat nervously.

_Anniba!_

Hannibal glanced back up immediately, noticing that Will had not moved from the window and he was now facing it. It took Hannibal less than a second to realize the sound had originated in his own mind. Before his eyes, the red and white curtains blurred, twisting into whiteness, and the red disappearing except from deep red pools. Hannibal squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second.

As quickly as the door to Hannibal Lecter's memory palace opened, it was slammed back shut. The shrill voice calling his name, and the images of bloodstained snow disappeared back into the dark crevices of his mind that they had escaped from. He steadied his breathing, taken back by how suddenly he was taken over by memories he thought he had long ago repressed. They were supposed to be memories that he retrieved when he wanted, not memories that crept up on him. It was something that had never happened to him before, at least not while with a patient. Hannibal quickly regained all composure and reached his hand up to feel his slightly damp forehead.

Luckily, Will was still facing the window, and Hannibal was thankful that he had not seen the emotion that he had let slip across his face. It was not like him to lose control, and losing that control bothered him nearly as much as the memories did.

"It's not safe for Caralynn to get involved though," Will said.

Hannibal dragged his teeth across his bottom lip and clenched his jaws, confused at the sudden change in himself.

"She is careless and not properly trained to deal with this. She is driven by her emotion and nothing else. So no," Hannibal murmured. "It is not safe for her to become involved."

* * *

Caralynn's fingers brushed over the cut out newspaper and magazine articles that sat atop and marked pages in a psychology textbook as she passed her kitchen table. Her family album sat not far away, opened near the beginning when she and Miriam were still young. Her eyes focused on a family portrait, messily ripped on the left side, removing the father of the photo. His broad shoulder was still visible next to Miriam's young face. She cringed at the photo before she reached out and closed the album, shutting out memories that she wanted to keep out of her mind. She reached out and straightened a napkin sitting on the dusty table, reading over what she had messily scrawled there.

_6pm _

A small ounce of dread began pooling in her stomach, but she tried to shake it off. She ran a hand through her wet, recently washed hair and dried it on the towel draped over her shoulder. The kitchen around her was a wreck. Dishes sat stacked in the sink and on the counter around it. Fast food containers were piled on the neighboring counter, and the garbage can was overflowing. She'd never had visitors in the little apartment since she'd bought it. Socializing and housekeeping weren't her strong points any more. Caralynn really couldn't think of any of her strongpoints any more. She'd spent the last two years since Miriam's disappearance, delving deep into the investigation herself, or at least trying too. Going on with her life had proved to be ineffective at helping her accept that her sister was gone. Now, one failed marriage down and out of the way, she felt even more at odds than before she'd gotten married.

Before leaving the little messy kitchen, Caralynn downed a few Aspirin with a glass of strong, chemical tasting tap water.

"Calm down, Caralynn," she murmured under her breath as she walked into her small bedroom. "It's just another night that you have to get through. Soon enough it will all be worth it."

She let out a deep breath and studied the fancy dresses that she'd hung on the curtain rod of her window. Now, she was glad that she had bought them. They were sure to come in handy.

* * *

Light piano music rolled through the kitchen as Alana Bloom arranged the newly made tomato roses onto the plates Hannibal had already placed on the countertop. She stopped to take a sip of her beer every few minutes and he raised his eyes to watch her. The light banter they'd shared since she'd arrived was nothing more than jokes and casual conversation, but he could see that she was holding back. She had not yet brought Gideon or Will back up since their talk on the phone days earlier. But, Hannibal enjoyed Alana's company before dinner. For a short while, she kept his mind off of Gideon and off of Caralynn Lass who had taken up a place in his mind even more so after Will's appointment. Alana was someone that he respected and he could spend time with her without finding her aggravating or ending up suffering through the socialization. After the strange moment he'd had during Will's appointment days earlier, he didn't mind the company at all and that wasn't exactly like him.

Hannibal began dishing mushrooms onto four plates when he noticed Alana's attention had been caught by his simple maneuver.

"Is Will coming?" Alana asked from across the counter.

" Ah No. Actually Dr. Chilton asked if he could bring someone," Hannibal explained as he remembered Chilton's request.

"Oh," Alana dampened her bottom lip with her tongue before speaking. "I guess that he will have no problem speaking in front of her about all of this? About Gideon?"

"He said that she could be well trusted, and although he didn't tell me who she was, I would assume that he has already told her or he would not have asked. I guess that I should have warned you beforehand so that you could bring your own date along," Hannibal responded.

Alana smiled at his words and a knock echoed over the light piano tones. Hannibal wiped his hands on his dish towel and removed his still clean apron before leaving Alana alone to answer the door.

He straightened his tie and smoothed his suit, eyes flitting over the table, politely and neatly arranged for the dinner as he passed it. Chilton was not someone he liked to be around, but in the moment, Hannibal thought that inviting him over for dinner would help him find out more about the "Chesapeake Ripper." He cleared his throat upon entering the entryway and reached for the door.

Hannibal opened the door with his polite and practiced greeting on the very tip of his tongue, but when his eyes swept over his two guests, standing hand in hand, the words left his mind. Dr. Fredrick Chilton stood, beaming from eye to eye, hair slicked back, and wearing one of his usual suits, but it was not his form that caught Hannibal's eye and made him lose his train of thought. Caralynn Lass stood beside Chilton, her hair curled in the same manner as when he had seen her days before, falling over her shoulders and down her back. Her makeup was applied a little less naturally, but flattering to her all the same. Her lipstick covered lips were a darker red than normal, and it made her brown hair and eyes appear darker while her skin appeared slightly paler. She wore a dark blue dress, low cut but modest, that reached her knees.

"Doctor Chilton… Good evening to the both of you. Come in," Hannibal spoke quickly, pretending as if seeing her had not surprised him, and not allowing his eyes to linger on her for long. He sidestepped to allow them both inside.

Chilton led Caralynn in. The delicate smell of her perfume filled the entryway as she stepped in. It neatly covered the cheap cologne that Chilton wore as she stopped beside her date. Hannibal's eyes swept back over the odd couple standing before him.

"This is Caralynn Williams, Dr. Lecter," Chilton introduced Caralynn, and Hannibal's mind processed Chilton's words quickly. _Caralynn Williams? Why not Caralynn Lass? _He silently cursed himself for inviting Chilton and allowing him to bring someone without asking who it was first.

Hannibal reached out and took her hand delicately, making the decision to act as if he had not met her before. Perhaps she had not told Chilton of their meeting in his office days earlier? If she had, then he would not have introduced her so.

"It's nice to meet you," Hannibal said politely.

Caralynn's eyes widened at his statement but she nodded uncomfortably. A fake smile settled on her red lips. "It's nice to meet you too."

She was tense and Hannibal could feel it through the skin contact as well as the look on her face, but she played it off fairly well. Chilton did not notice, so Hannibal released her hand and motioned the both of them toward the dining room.

"Shall we?"

* * *

Caralynn Lass felt her palm sweating around the expensive silverware she found herself clutching tightly in her hand. The meal that sat before her was fancy and expensive. The room, more like the entire house, was perfectly arrayed and made her feel unwelcome and unworthy of its entirety. She watched Dr. Lecter out of the corner of her eye. Only when he looked down at his own plate did she allow her eyes to glance his way. He acted as if he'd never even met her before. That had surprised her. She expected him to set Chilton straight the moment she walked in the door, or at least question what was going on, but he didn't.

She turned her head slightly, watching Dr. Lecter carefully push his food onto his fork with his knife. He sat at the end of the table to her right, and Chilton sat at her left. Dr. Bloom sat across from her.

Caralynn clenched her jaws tightly as Dr. Lecter glanced up suddenly and in her direction, taking her by surprise. Her eyes immediately landed back on her plate. Lamb tongue was not something she felt she had the guts to try. She was not a vegetarian, but her nervous, fluttering stomach and the way that the lamb tongue looked, turned her off completely. She poked her fork around the oyster mushrooms that surrounded it and carefully slipped a piece into her mouth.

"You know," Chilton spoke aloud, saving Caralynn the awkward silence. "Romans used to kill Flamingos just to eat their tongues."

"Don't give me ideas. Your tongue is very feisty and as this evening has already proven it is nice to have an old friend for dinner," Dr. Lecter responded with a slight smile.

Caralynn felt her nose crinkle in disgust at the thought of the pretty pink birds being killed as well as the lambs, but the words seemed to have no effect on Dr. Bloom, Dr. Lecter, or Chilton himself. They politely cut into their own lamb tongues.

Caralynn felt stupid. Not only had she been caught off guard by attending Dr. Lecter's dinner, but she felt oddly out of place. Physically, she knew that she fit in with the setting, but mentally she did not. She wished that she would have asked earlier whose dinner party they would be attending. Dr. Lecter knew that she was Miriam's sister. What she couldn't figure out though, was why he acted as if he didn't. Why did he play along and not tell Chilton?

Caralynn politely tilted her wine glass to her lips. She felt gracious that learning to be fake had become her second nature. She was fake around strangers, around the police, and around anyone she was trying to get information from or lying to.

"Isn't Dr. Lecter's house absolutely stunning?" Chilton asked as he reached for his own wine glass.

Caralynn forced a smile to her lips.

"Yes it is. It's…divine," she answered. "It's actually better than a lot of restaurants I've been too."

Dr. Lecter raised his eyes from his dish as he took a bite from his fork. Caralynn mentally kicked herself.

_Stupid,_ she frantically thought.

"So how long have the two of you known each other?" Dr. Bloom asked.

Caralynn opened her mouth to speak, but Chilton beat her to the chase.

"Ummm…a week? A week today?" He glanced back to Caralynn as if he was waiting to be corrected.

"Yeah that's about right," she said quickly.

Dr. Bloom cleared her throat quietly as she placed her wine glass down.

"But it feels as if I've known her my entire life," Chilton added, and Caralynn kept the disgust from showing on her face.

Dr. Bloom smiled but returned her attention back to her plate.

Caralynn retired back into her own thoughts as silence fell around them again. Chilton met her eyes and she smiled back at him slightly. He reached over, and Caralynn fought the urge to pull away when he placed his hand on her knee beneath the table. She quickly reacted and placed her hand over his. It was a simple gesture that she assumed he would not take the wrong way. As she thought, he seemed to take it as a simple sign of affection.

"I see three possibilities," Dr. Bloom spoke aloud once more. "Gideon is the Chesapeake Ripper or he just thinks he is….or he knows that he isn't."

"He is. He knows he is, and so do I," Chilton said quickly, his wine glass held in the air with his hand that was not on Caraylnn's knee.

Caralynn frowned at Chilton's arrogant response. It embarrassed her slightly that he acted the way he did, but it was normal for him and she assumed that Dr. Bloom and Dr. Lecter, who had both known him longer, were used to it.

* * *

Hannibal watched Caralynn with her eyes directed to her plate as Dr. Chilton and Bloom continued. Every now and then she would glance up at Alana Bloom as she spoke of the Ripper, but when Chilton spoke, she didn't even glance his way.

"Mrs. _Williams_, Would you care to assist me with the dessert?" he announced.

Caralynn glanced up from her dish, her eyes widened in surprise.

"It's a simple task, already prepared. I just need someone to help me serve it," Hannibal added simply.

He placed his fork and knife across his plate. He had been sitting long enough, watching Caralynn nervously glance his way, obviously confused that he had not made a scene. Hannibal found it slightly amusing at first, but now her nervous behavior was beginning to become embarrassing to herself, and quite frankly, embarrassing to watch. Although he enjoyed the subtle expressions of disgust or aggravation that she showed toward Chilton, he wanted to see what she would say if they were alone, and if she would admit.

"Sure, of course," she answered unsurely, quickly realizing everyone had stopped to watch her.

Hannibal slipped out of his chair and placed his napkin in his seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Caralynn follow his lead. He led the way into his kitchen, not bothering to look behind him and see that Caralynn was even following. When he entered, he paused in the doorway and held the swinging door open for her. Caralynn slinked in, and walked to the island in the middle of the kitchen. Her simple black hills clicked on the hard floor as he shut the door behind them to assure privacy.

Now that he was in a room alone with her, her perfume, the same as when he'd first seen her, was much more pronounced. It wafted around the kitchen with each move and bounce of her curled hair, mixing with the fumes of delicious dessert already prepared but not yet placed on dishes.

Hannibal silently strolled to the other side of the island, straightening a few knives to the side and picking up a dish towel when Caralynn spoke.

"I know what you're thinking," Caralynn whispered frantically. She leaned across the countertop, her dark blue dress brushing against an empty wooden cutting board Hannibal had left there. He raised his eyes to meet hers.

He studied her for a moment, studied the intensity in her brown eyes and the tension in her attractive face. He assumed that she would bring up the subject, but he was slightly surprised at her forwardness. Instead of continuing, she stopped though.

"You're lying to Dr. Chilton. He has no idea who you are. How long do you think it will be until he realizes that you are not who you say you are?" Hannibal asked quietly.

"I am who I told him I was. I'm Caralynn Williams by marriage," Caralynn blurted out, lowering her voice halfway through her statement.

"I know that you are," Hannibal responded, maybe too quickly because his statement caught her attention. A flicker of interest flared in her brown eyes, but Hannibal spoke again. "But why then did you introduce yourself to Will Graham as Caralynn Lass earlier this week?"

"Because I'm divorced," Caralynn murmured. "Recently…and I knew that Will would recognize me by my last name. I kind of use both at the moment, in the middle of this transition."

"And you also knew that Chilton would recognize Lass as well," Hannibal murmured. "So you chose not to provide it to him."

Caralynn released the counter and leaned away from it and farther away from him. Hannibal began dishing the dessert onto four separate plates, remaining calm and collected. He backed off a little. Of course Chilton had not done enough research to know that Caralynn was Miriam's sister. It was nothing less than he expected of the arrogant doctor.

"What do you want?" Caralynn blurted out worriedly. "I just finished school. I earned a Master's in psychology. I don't think I'm doing any harm here…I….If you're worried that I shouldn't be hearing talk about all of this…about Gideon… then you should know that Fredrick thinks that I can hear. He talks with me."

"But he does not know the real you," Hannibal raised his eyes for a brief moment. "What did you presume that I was thinking then if everything you told Dr. Chilton about yourself could be found true? If you are truly innocent and at no fault then what were you worried about?" Hannibal asked.

Caralynn opened her mouth to speak, but paused.

"You knew that I _know_ you are manipulating Dr. Fredrick Chilton so that you may get close to Dr. Gideon, the presumed Chesapeake Ripper? Or that you are hoping to find a job within his hospital."

Caralynn's jaw tensed at Hannibal assumption.

"I…I'm not," she swallowed hard.

"How did you meet him then?"

"Wha- Fredrick? At a bar."

"A bar? What…other than his career and proximity to Dr. Gideon, attracted you to him?" Hannibal continued softly. "I'm not insulting Dr. Chilton, I'm just wondering for what other attraction that you could have possibly found in him?"

"You won't believe me no matter what I say," Caralynn stated courageously. Strong emotion coursed through her words, and Hannibal stopped once again, intrigued by her reaction, and watched her.

Caralynn's breathing quickened with anger, worry, or adrenaline. She took another step back, arms crossed tightly against the slick, dark blue material of her dress. Stuck in the fight or flight position, Caralynn stood frozen.

"I do not care what business you hold with Dr. Chilton, Mrs. _Williams, _but I'm merely stating that while Dr. Chilton is rash, I cannot say he is stupid. He may, in all actuality, not even have the Chesapeake Ripper in his custody," Hannibal pushed a well decorated plate toward her on the countertop.

"I know that," Caralynn said quickly. "But I think I can help them determine if he is or not…I…I need a job and if one comes from this then that would be great. I could work in his hospital."

"Or you think that you can somehow obtain information from Gideon regarding your sister?" Hannibal edged.

"Dr. Lecter," Caralynn stopped and took a deep breath before meeting his eyes once again. Her voice became steadier. "I like Fredrick Chilton."

There was a new look in Caralynn's eyes, maybe desperation, but Hannibal didn't even have to see her desperation to know that her "fling" with Chilton was to use him. He noticed the cold glances she gave Fredrick, the forced smiles that formed on her lips when he spoke and flirted with her.

"I know what you are doing Miss Williams," Hannibal responded simply.

"Please, just let me try this. I'm not going to screw things up for anyone. I'm not doing this to mess with any of them. I respect them for what they are doing, but I just have to do something," Caralynn said suddently. "Okay maybe I do want to question Gideon, but I lost my sister. I can't just sit around and do nothing. You don't understand."

Hannibal glanced back up at Caralynn's face. Her expression turned from desperate to downright painful with the simple words she'd spoken.

"You're right," Hannibal finally murmured. "I would not understand. Losing someone is a specific hurt that has to be felt to be understood. Especially for one to lose someone in such circumstances."

Caralynn swallowed hard. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly.

"So you don't care? You won't tell him? Well what was this this third degree you gave me? You acted as if you didn't even know me anyway and then got me alone to tell me that you knew."

"Just curious," Hannibal pushed another plate her way, keeping two for himself to carry into the dining room as well.

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